FlashFire
by Sheryl Nantus
Summary: A horrible incident brings out the best and worst.


Title: Flash Fire (1/1)  
Author: Sheryl Martin/Nantus  
Email: xfdragon@zoominternet.net  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.  
Archive: anywhere you want! Helio, S/JD... anyone wants it, help yourself!  
Rating: PG-13, UST and a bit of angst... Sam/Jack  
Spoilers: None - sixth season setting  
Summary: A horrible incident brings out the best and worst.  
Flash Fire (1/1)  
By Sheryl Martin/Nantus  
  
"What's happening?" General Hammond looked down at the computer monitor as the code for SG-1 flashed across the screen.  
  
"It's SG-1, sir - they're coming back."  
  
"There's got to be something wrong." He trotted down the steps to the main floor. "They just left an hour ago..."   
  
The familiar flash, the watery sounds and four figures stepped through the Gate, staggering down the ramp.  
  
"Colonel O'Neill. What happened?" Hammond looked from one face to the other, seeing nothing but blank stares.  
  
"There's nothing there. Sir." He added the title as an afterthought, closing his eyes. "Whatever was there was wiped out by someone or something."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"They... burnt it all." Jonas stared at the floor, letting out something between a sigh and a whimper. "The city... maybe medieval, maybe not...nothing left but the bodies."  
  
Suddenly the General understood. "Get to the infirmary. We'll debrief in an hour."  
  
***********  
  
"How did you burn your hand?" Dr. Frazier wrapped a bandage around Quinn's right palm.   
  
"I... tried to move something. I thought... I heard a child..." His voice trailed off as he stared past her into the blank wall.  
  
"I'm going to give you a sedative, okay?" She nodded to the nurse standing nearby. He looked at her again.  
  
"I've never seen anything like that." He drew in a deep breath, coughing as he did so. "The smell..."   
  
"Just lie down and we'll get you something. And let's get you out of those clothes." Part of the smoky smell had soaked through the uniforms, drifting eerily through the room around the team.  
  
"I have seen attacks like this made before." Teal'c shrugged off the uniform, dropping it in the biohazard bag held by an aide. "But never... on such a scale." He dipped his head towards the doctor. "I wish to go to my quarters and meditate."  
  
"Well, if you're feeling fine..." Her attention turned away from the Jaffa towards Carter and O'Neill, lying on a pair of cots at the far end of the room. "Just call me if you have any problems."  
  
Jack lay sprawled across the table; one arm covering his eyes as a nurse dutifully took his blood pressure, his jacket already sitting on the floor. Sam was just staring at the ceiling; her eyes wide open as the aide finished making his notes on her chart.  
  
"And how are you two?" Frazier put a trace of cheerfulness in her voice - not enough to belittle their situation, but enough to remind them that they were going through the usual routines.  
  
"Oh, fine." O'Neill sat up with a shrug. "Just need a shower and a nap."  
  
"After the debrief I'll join you." Carter balked at the unintended faux pas, shaking her head. "I mean, leave me some hot water for when it's my turn. Alone. With the other women. Without men around."  
  
"Calm down, Sam." Janet smiled. "I think we all figured it out." She looked at the chart. "I don't see any problems..."  
  
"I can't get the smell out of my nose." Sam rubbed her face hard. "I can't get rid of it..."  
  
"Lemons." Jack offered from the other side of the curtain as he stripped down, putting on the hospital garb and packing his tshirt and pants into the plastic bag. "Grab a few from the kitchen on the way to the shower room. Use the juice - it'll help." Pulling the curtain back he nodded at the doctor. "I'll go talk to Hammond. I don't think we all need to do this debrief." Rubbing his chin he looked over at Jonas, resting now on the hospital bed. "Let him rest." With a nod to Sam he jerked a thumb at the open door. "Am I clear?"  
  
"As far as I can tell. Any problems..."  
  
"Oh, I'll call you the second I need help, Doctor." He disappeared out into the hall before either woman could speak. Sam looked up at Janet with a confused look. She responded with a generic shrug.   
  
***************  
  
"So what's your best estimate on the body count?" Hammond spoke directly to O'Neill, ignoring the empty seats. In response the Colonel drew large circles on his notepad.  
  
"Hard to say, sir - looks like this orbital bombardment or whatever went down happened maybe a day or so ago. A lot of the buildings were still burning; a lot of... bodies as well. If they were all occupied we could be dealing with hundreds, maybe thousands. I really don't know."  
  
"And why do you think they were attacked?" The General leaned forward, balancing himself on his forearms. "Do you think it was the Goa'uld? Looking for the Tok'ra, maybe?"  
  
"I have no idea, sir." He rubbed the side of his face. "All I know is that there was a lot of destruction and those people never had a chance. They barely had good swords and spears."   
  
"I hear you." The senior officer scribbled quickly on his own notepad. "I'll send another team through to take care of the situation. At least we can give them a decent burial if possible." He caught O'Neill's eye. "And your team?"  
  
"They're fine."   
  
Hammond's eyebrow rose. A little too fast of a response for his liking. "Maybe you should see Dr. Mackenzie..."  
  
"With all due respect, sir... you know I hate shrinks. And I've dealt with things like this before."  
  
"But Jonas hasn't. Nor Carter, to my knowledge. Teal'c... he'll come to us if he needs help." The pencil tapped the notepad rhythmically. "I know it can hit hard, even if you've been in that situation before."  
  
"Frazier's got Jonas doped up already." O'Neill pursed his lips. "But I'll get her to suggest it to him. Might come across better from Janet than from me."  
  
"And Carter?"   
  
"She'll be fine." He shrugged. "She's tough."  
  
"Maybe." Hammmond stared at him directly. "I don't want to lose her over this, Colonel. And you, of all people, should know how many casualties something like this can cause after the fact."  
  
"Duly noted, sir." Jack put his hand over his mouth, holding back a yawn. "If you don't mind, I'd like to hit the showers myself. Told Carter to grab a few lemons from the kitchen on the way in and wouldn't mind using some of them to clean this out."  
  
"I hear you. Just..." Hammond got to his feet. "Just take it easy. I'll put SG-1 on stand down for a few days; let you all get sorted out."  
  
*****************  
  
The shower room stank of lemon, seeping through from the women's showers on the other wall. Grabbing his shampoo and soap O'Neill lathered up, dropping on the floor the cut lemons he had picked up on his own visit to the kitchen; startling the staff who wondered why suddenly the SG-1 team had gone citrus-happy. Picking up one half he squeezed a generous amount of juice and pulp into his free hand, adding it to the lather that now covered his body.   
  
"This sucks." He announced to the empty room. Raising his voice, he shouted loud enough to hear the echo off the tiles. "This sucks!"  
  
******************  
  
The clean uniform felt almost alien to him; the fresh pressed fabric rubbing against his almost raw skin with a startling sensitivity. A few swipes with a comb and he was ready to face the world. Or at least the cafeteria. Or better yet, his own bed. But first he had to make some visits.  
  
"He's resting comfortably." Dr. Frazier lowered her voice even though they were standing at the far end of the ward. "I'll see if he wants to talk to Mackenzie, but I don't think it'd be a bad idea. He's not military, remember - there's only so much you can ask a civilian to deal with."  
  
O'Neill nodded. "Just let me know if there's any problems. Teal'c's going to meditate it out of his system, I figure."  
  
"And Sam?" She asked.  
  
"Ah... I'm sure she's okay." The words sounded lame even to his ears.  
  
"Colonel..." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't underestimate the experience you've all just been through. It may not have been life-threatening as most of the missions you've gone on, but it can be just as mentally disturbing."  
  
"Yeah. I hear you." He nodded. "I'll go check on her now." With a final look towards the sleeping Quinn he walked out of the room.  
  
The elevator ride was slow, the grinding of the opening doors shocking him back into awareness. Walking slowly down the corridor he stopped in front of Carter's quarters, looking down the hallway as if to see if anyone was going to challenge him for being there.   
  
Putting his hand on the doorknob he paused for a second, listening intently. Nothing. Not a sound. Maybe she wasn't even in there...  
  
Jack rapped his knuckles against the door lightly. "Carter?"  
  
An indistinguishable sound came from inside. He waited another few seconds, then spoke again. "Carter? You okay?"  
  
Another noise. Turning the doorknob he pushed the door open slowly. "Carter? I just wanted to thank you for leaving some hot water... and lemons..." His voice broke off as he saw her lying on the bed, turned away from him. The citrus smell was subtle, but most definitely there.  
  
A loud sniffle. "I'm fine, sir. Thanks for stopping by."  
  
Stepping further into the darkened room Jack let the door swing shut, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You don't sound fine."  
  
"I'm just..." Another small sniffle. "I'm just..."   
  
O'Neill took a step forward, banging his shin on the edge of the bed. "Darn it..."  
  
A stifled chuckle came from Sam's general direction. Leaning down he felt the edge of the bed and a clear space. Sitting on the less-than-comfortable mattress Jack rubbed his leg. "You moved furniture since the last time I dropped by." Taking a deep breath he leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. "You know, as soon as we got a whiff of the town I knew what was ahead of us."  
  
"How?" The disembodied question drifted to him out of the dark.  
  
"Been there before. Well, not there, but that smell..." Clearing his throat, he continued. "I was someplace... you know the drill, but the enemy had decided that the best way to stop any resistance was to set fire to the village. They didn't let the inhabitants out; locked them in their houses and shot any who tried to get away from the fire." He rubbed the palm of one hand on his leg. "That's where I learned about the lemon. Well, that and rubbing this crap under your nose, but it always gave me a headache..."  
  
Suddenly she appeared beside him in the darkness, so close their legs were touching; leaning against him. "I never..." Sam muttered. "I never..." She fell silent.  
  
Jack felt her start to shake, trembling as she sat next to him. Putting his right arm around her he felt the shuddering continue; overwhelming them both. The smell of lemon was stronger now, but with still an underlying trace of smoke and of burnt flesh.  
  
"How did you deal with it?" She mumbled.  
  
"I... I don't." He whispered. "You don't think I felt like throwing up when Jonas thought he heard a voice? When Teal'c had to stop him from burning his hand off on that door? Or when you did throw up around the corner away from the rest of us?"  
  
"I didn't think you'd notice." Her embarassed voice was soft and close.  
  
"I notice everything about you, Carter." Pulling her close, he turned towards her in the darkness. "You should know that by now." The low reprimand brought out a chuckle. Reaching out tentatively his fingertips touched starched fresh fabric, moving up and over to find dampness on soft skin. "And I cope. That's what I do. I cope."  
  
Her breath was close now, her words faint. "I just can't imagine..."  
  
"Don't. Imagine." Cupping his hand around the back of her neck he pulled her close, pulling her into his arms. "Just don't let them claim another victim, Sam." He exhaled slowly, feeling the tension begin to seep out of her body. "You can't forget it, but you can move away from it."  
  
"Even Jolinar never..." She breathed into the side of his neck with a weary sniffle. He nodded in reply, putting his lips next to her ear.  
  
"Just let it go." Jack murmured. "There was nothing we could have done even if we had arrived before the attack."  
  
"All those people..." A fresh, wet touch on his face. "They deserved to live."  
  
"Been a lot of those we've seen." He replied.   
  
"I know, it's just..." Her hands came around to rest on his waist, sliding off to prop herself up on the bed as she leaned forward. "I just don't want to forget but I don't want to remember." She pressed her forehead to his. "Does that make any sense?"  
  
"What, now I'm the shrink?" She began to chuckle at his response, choking softly as she continued to cry. He cupped her face in his hands, pressing his lips to her forehead in a light kiss. "There ya go. Much better than talking to MacKenzie, I think."  
  
"Or getting drugs from Janet." Sam exhaled slowly, suddenly acutely aware of their position.   
  
"Yeah." His breath was a bit more rapid, a bit more ragged in the dark room.   
  
Tentatively she leaned forward, knowing almost instinctively where he was; brushing her lips against his, tasting the bitter salt from his own tears. Her pulse roared in her ears as she waited for his response.   
  
"Much better than MacKenzie." He repeated, moving in for another soft kiss; lingering there for a few seconds before pulling back to sit up. "Get some rest. Hammond's giving us a few days off." His hands dropped to the bed, finding her own and entwining their fingers. "I'll see you at dinner, then?"  
  
"Yes... sir." She sniffled one last time, feeling the rough calloused hands squeeze her own. "I'll be fine."  
  
"Of that, I have no doubt." Suddenly she felt one of her hands being raised up; a gentle kiss pressed against the back of her right hand. "Later, Major."  
  
"Later, Colonel." She felt the weight lift off the bed, heard a tentative step towards the door...  
  
"Ouch!" A large thump, a boot being raised and lowered as the owner hopped up and down in one spot.  
  
"Sorry about the table being there."  
  
The door opened, silhouetting O'Neill. "We'll have to have a meeting about keeping our rooms identically set up." She could dimly make out his smile. "Otherwise any nocturnal visits could end up sending someone to the infirmary."  
  
"Duly noted, sir." She kept smiling long after the door had shut behind him.  
  
*******************************the end********************************** 


End file.
